Duty
by Mayor Shin
Summary: Marco Diaz is more than he lets himself be, the multiverse cannot allow him to be less than he can be.
1. The calling

The room was empty, she was gone. Marco couldn't believe it. His life had been something else because of Star and now she was gone and he was mundane again. He muttered "its over" into the emptiness of his new life.

He turned to leave, get back to the party, steeling himself for a life that was only ordinary. And there she was, a girl in a yellow dress with a flame sputtering weakly above her head. Marco didn't have time to say anything before Hekapoo tore into him. She slaped him across the back of his head and whispered "Marco Diaz, you are better than this, more than Star Butterfly. You won the scissors from me in a contest designed to get you to piss off as fast as possible. You fall back into this frail child's body and you forget so fast, a few months and you have stopped practicing the sword, you haven't come to see Nachos in weeks, but that was okay. Until we needed you"

Marco looked up, he had forgotten. It had been so hard to think about what he had been, how strong and capable so he had just stopped. Hekapoo dropped a ring into his hands. "this is a fragment of my dimension, it will let you have what you lost when you came back here"

Marco stammered, he didn't know what he felt about Star, he was in a good relationship with Jackie, they were good for each other. Hekapoo shushed him, "that's not important, duty calls Marco Diaz"

He slid the ring onto his finger, no puff or fanfare, he just was. Where a child had stood there was a man older and stronger, ready to face to a world of magic and monsters without Star Butterfly. Suddenly he ducked his head, "I can't" He said "I gave star my-"

She interrupted by pressing a length of cloth into his hands. He unwrapped the covering and found a length of sturdy steel. Hekapoo seemed to flicker, and in a rush she explained "The real me took a bad beating, me and this sword took all she had left. It can't know where you want to come out like a pair of scissors, but it will take you where you need to go". With that said she flickered out with a blowing like sand.

Marco hesitated, stepped to the door and then he realized he had nothing to say to Jackie or any of his friends. She was wonderful and great but it was a high school relationship. A thirty year man confronting his fourteen year old girlfriend, it was more that a little creepy. He took the sword in hand and it hit him so suddenly, the weight and balance the feel of the grip. This was a part of him. He lifted the sword and it jumped in his hand, an impossible motion that had no direction, and he let it fall. The portal was a dark hole in the air, with no light or hint of what the other side held. Marco rejected the thought that he should explain to his parents. It was indubitably wrong to leave without saying goodbye but he had no idea what to say the them, couldn't explain why he had to go, and was so terrified that he would be talked out of this. He stepped forward and into the unknown.


	2. The song

Marco Diaz stood at the base of an impossible tree. From where he stood a good ten feet back from the tree he couldn't see where the trunk ended. When he craned his head back to see what it looked like above him he could see great branches spreading as shadow to block out a star-lit void. Buried deep before him in the trunk was a sword. He wondered how he knew for certain it was a sword, it had no guard and the blade if there was a blade was buried completely in the tree, a photo would reveal what looked like a handle bound in black leather protruding from the wood, but there in its presence there was no doubt that it was a weapon. He walked up and took the hilt in his hand it was so cold it burned. He was interrupted by a deep amused voice which told him "You don't know how stupid this sword is, do you? Its' blade is the heart of a neutron star, denser and heavier than your human mind can wrap your mind around. This hilt is wrapped in light years upon light years of empty space folded into a leather of sorts. It rests in Yggdrasil, not just because this tree is where it needs to be when it must be drawn, but because there is hardly anything else in existance that could safely contain it. Excalibur was said to be made of star metal, but this is a sword for neither hero nor king. It waits for a god" This rambling explanation of an unasked question came from a tall young man in a very modern suit, smoking an old pipe.

"Pardon me" he said "I haven't introduced myself, I am St. Indecks of Location., I believe you may have met my cousin **S** ir Glossaryck of Terms. He probably would not have mentioned me."

"why not" Marco replied

"He's jealous you see, He received his knighthood briefly before my beatification and resents having so little time as the holder of the highest title."

"don't you have to be dead for beatification"

"Usualy" Indecks smiled conspiratorially "but because I was never alive to begin with ol' John Paul thought we could skip to whole death thing, especially with all the miracles attributed to me."

Marco decided that further digging into this creatures history with the catholic church, while interesting, would rapidly grow too confusing. He needed to cut to the chase and. . . It was at this point that Marco Diaz realized he had no idea what was going on. He had been caught up in the rush of being old again and being told that he was needed, he had jumped through the hole without thinking about what he was needed for. He paused and looked at St. Indecks.

"wondering why you are here?" Indecks asked "You are here because Hekapoo messed up, she thought that you would be able to help in the fight against toffee, the clone was dispatched before she was defeated, the ring held in readiness against this eventuality. That sword in your had is a magic older than understanding, it took the clone to you only after the fight, it has another purpose in mind for you".

"But why" asked Marco "why send for me"

"You don't understand what you are?" Indecks chortled "Son, you beat the unbeatable game, Hekapoo's little chase game is meant to be a test of ego, you have to humble yourself and admit you can't beat her"

"what"

"your adventures have already spawned mythology in the accelerated time of her dimension"

Marco was aghast

"Oh yes, they call you Hound, and they tell your story still, the details are fuzzy and warped, but it's your story all the same. Some say that you fell in love with a fire demon who made you chase her through hell before you could wed her. Some say it was the spirit of the wind. Most commonly they say that you loved lightning herself, from the moment you first saw her dancing free and wild and strong across the sky. When you grew to a man you chased the storm across the sky to find her and woo her, but she told you that neither could she love a man weaker than herself nor did she think that there was any man stronger than she. And when you had heard it you knew it to be true, for if it were not you could not love her. But love is a powerful tenacious thing, it will not surrender if there is a path to take and hound saw it before the words had finished falling from her mouth. You had to prove yourself equal to her. So you did. You chased her across the sky and thrice in this great one would lose her scent and drop down from the sky and sniff at the ground for the scent of char. The first time you descended you found a man tied to a post, he was a warrior captured in battle. Those that remember that you were a man say you took his sword from where it lay out of reach to taunt him and cut him free; in return he taught you the use of it and gave it to you as a gift. Those that have forgotten and see you as the hound you were named for tell that you gnawed through his ropes are were given human speech as your gift. Either way he was free and you caught the scent and loped off. When next you descended to sniff her out you came across a child playing on a great waterfall, dancing between the rocks. When he slipped and fell you ran and caught him broke his fall with your own body. When you landed he was transformed before you into The Eternal Child who tended your wounds and taught you the secret of boundless energy, that you would never need to rest again. With this you were able to run on and on through sunrises and sunsets. Finally the last time you lost her scent you found a battle where the bears and the wolfs of the woods stood facing humans who had come to settle. Those who call you hound in truth say you used your tongue to mediate a peace. Those who call you wolf in name say you fought both man and beasts, one man against two armies. Never resting. Your fight lasted seven days. They say you took wounds that should have killed a mortal man and fought on. In the end both sides bowed before you; they gave you a crown and promised loyalty forever. You did not rest, though in truth you were close to death either from poison or a number of mortal wounds. You could not wait because you heard the rumble of thunder and saw the flash of lightning over the next hill. At last you caught her. She admitted you her only equal. You wed her and loved her for one night and died in the morning. She was broken by your loss and even now lighting strikes and the ground and shouts in anger at the world that took her lover from her."

Marco had listened to this story in silence and now that it was finished he was stunned, the story was so bizarre, he could see the times it touched his own but as much was added as omitted and what was there was so twisted and strange.

Indecks smiled at him "That was the story I was meant to tell, I don't know why it was that you were drawn here, or had to see and touch the sword but it was necessary. Before you go, as you must now let me give you three pieces of advice: First, Glossorick says that he is impartial and he may believe it but if you look at the results of his actions they have always been for the best. Secondly, Mewni is not as simple a conflict as it may seem and helping your friends there might be different from doing whats right. Thirdly, Magic is not the only great power You have the seeds of something strange and different in you; do not surrender because the arcane seems impossible to defeat"

Marco was confused and disoriented, he had more questions now than when he had started but his sword felt heavy in his hand, he lifted it and stepped through the portal, drawn into another world with no idea what had just happened or what was about to occur.

Indecks sat in the shadow of the world tree, wondering. Fate eddied and pooled here and there was always a kind of dance to any meeting here, things that were meant to be left unsaid crept out of ones lips and information to be given was forgotten. He had meant to tell Marco about Wotan and the nature of magic. He had not meant to tell Marco anything about himself and yet it was what it was. He sighed and let himself wonder what would happen to the young man next.


	3. Whispers

**Sorry if this depiction of Marco seems abrupt or jarring but that kind of the way that I intended it. If this is too weird all I can say is that I wrote this late at night and I was very jet-lagged and tired. Thanks ever so much to anyone who has shown interest in this story. and please give reviews, every bit of feedback helps. Thanks**

* * *

"Tell me what you can about Marco Diaz"

It was a simple enough question, but also a complex enough person. "I only ever knew one man named Marco" the spirit quavered "He was strange, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He argued against every plan then fought harder than anyone to see the plan realized. He was polite and kind without inviting friends. In the two years he was with us the only man who could call him friend was my brother, Bear. Bear used to say that he had never before trusted a man as much nor knew as big liar. Marco was always insisting that the moment he found a lead he would leave us, that he was just there because we moved and we heard things, but I heard rumors about the woman he was looking for. No doubt that he heard them too, but he always stayed. He wore a sword on his hip but he fought barehanded. I only saw him draw that sword once, a week after Bear died. Let me give you the pieces before I give you the story. The enemy had a man called Viper, sounds cheesy when I'm just talking but if he were here you would see it in the man. My brother was the strongest man I ever met, not very inventive as a swordsman, but so strong he didn't have to be. Whenever things went sour, and in a guerrilla campaign like ours thing go sour often, Bear would take the rear and cover the escape. Patterns are exploitable though and they figured that if Bear could be disposed of our forces would be vulnerable. So they send the man Viper in and set a trap. Viper was as quick as his namesake and cunning as a fox. We don't know if he killed Bear in a fair fight or caught in a trap but he killed him one way or another. We held Bears funeral that night, the proper way, and Marco stood up and called my brother the noblest of men and an overgrown farmhand who thought he could take on an army in the same breath. He said that the two parts weren't contradictory, that because my brother had nothing his rebellion was pure and his fight was honorable. I didn't know Marco had it in him, more words than he'd ever put together in public. There was fire in his eyes as he spoke. Next day he challenged Viper to a duel, to decide the conflict permanently, Viper must've thought that without Bear we were toast and that no country bumpkin stood a chance against him; I was inclined to agree, but without Bear we were done anyway. We pegged out a square and Marco striped down to his breach cloth, they intended to fight the old way, without armour or helmets, so that each blow was felt and seen when Marco drew I didn't see how he held the sword, how he fell into perfect stance without hesitation, but better eyes than mine told me after that Viper did and he smiled in hope of a real fight. It was the finest fight I ever saw, but there was no doubt from the beginning that Marco would win, He wasn't strong like Bear or even as fast as Viper He was right, I don't know how to explain it, his sword was in the right place before the stroke began, he didn't block with anymore force than was necessary, if he moved to avoid a blow it was always only enough. He took Vipers head, in the end, clean as can be. I don't think he meant to do that, he looked as shocked as anyone else. I wonder still if that's why he never drew his sword before. I think that he was a man trained for killing but not the kind of man who killing came too easy. I saw tears run down his face, but I don't know if he cried for Bear or Viper, maybe, both or for himself or for something that only he knew. We never saw him again. Sometimes when I pray for my brother's soul, I pray for him too, I don't know what I'm praying for really, but he needs it all the same"

The ghost went quiet wringing his hands, Toffee was surprised. Old spirits like this were strange to deal with and the story he had just heard was not the answer he had expected. He dismissed the ghost. He hadn't planed on Marco, hadn't known this much about him but all the same he might be just the piece he needed.


	4. Rythem

Marco found himself standing on the edge of a middling sized town. If the fangs on the trees were any indicator he was on Mewni.

He realized that he was woefully unprepared for any sort of adventure, his pants and shirt were painfully tight on his now bulky frame and he had no shoes on. He didn't have any money or even a belt and sheath for his sword. The town would be the best place to find these things.

He started into town and despite his ragged appearance and the naked blade in his hands nobody looked at him twice. It was a gift he had always had but not understood until recently; Marco naturally made people overlook him or assume he was harmless. He'd done it for years in Eco Creek, but on his travels he had learned to stop it. Now however he wanted people to assume him mild as milk.

The town was small but prosperous looking with several stone houses among the timber. He found what he was looking for quick enough, a seedy looking bar whose hand-painted sign advertised a fighting pit. He entered and watched the fight for a moment. A terrifically tall man with impressive muscles and a shaved head was currently laying a serious beat down on a pair of large young men. One of the men was on the ground already and as Marco watched a tight cross across the jaw dropped the other. The two men were helped out of the pit and a slightly rotund man entered holding a fat purse.

"What a lot of craven sissies we have in here tonight" he shouted "I can offer this bag of silver to anyone who can fight Oak toe to toe, one on one, but you all insist on go in twos or threes"

Marco didn't wait for more hyping he hoped over the low wooden railing and into the recessed pit

"I'll do it" he murmured and the man began another speech as the drinkers and the gamblers began to exchange bets. Marco walked up to the organizer and asked for odds

"I can give you seven to five against your victory" he smiled

"How much for this?" Marco asked showing his sword

The man tapped the blade and lifted the sword "Good steel, funny shape though. I would buy it from you for fifty silver"

It was a gross under pricing but Marco felt that it would be even exchange for the odds against him. He slid back into the ring.

The big man stood like a boxer, low center and tight guard. Marco relaxed into a simple stance, the bell rung and the man came at Marco fast abandoning his stance in the hope of wining fast through surprise. It didn't work. Marco was well out of the way before the fighter's punch was anywhere near him, He caught the man at the wrist and shoulder and causally threw him over an outstretched leg. The man tripped and sailed headfirst into the wooden side of the pit. He stood back up again slightly unsteadily, but before he could get his footing Marco snapped a kick into his broad chest and the man fell down. He knew the fight was over and so did everyone else in the room. Marco climbed out of the pit and collected his sword, the purse of prize money and his seventy silver winnings. As he turned the big man was standing behind him, but there was no anger in his posture or face. He held out a hand and Marco took it.

"My name is Oak" Oak said "Could you by any chance be Marco Diaz?"

Marco was aghast, How could this stranger know who he was?

"I saw you" Oak continued as if he were reading macros mind "At princess Stars Songsday celebration"

Marco was surprised that this man had recognized him and voiced that opinion.

Oak laughed "You could call me a political aficionado. As for seeing past your magical aging, you expect strange things from people who spend too much time around the royal family."

Oak seemed nice, surprising feature in a man who made money smashing peoples faces in. Marco walked Oak over to a table

"what are you drinking?" Marco asked

"Some bourbon, would be nice after that beating" Oak replied with a smile.

Marco laughed, it was good to be back in Mewnie.

Marco returned from the bar a little while with a bottle of Munion bourbon and two shot glasses. He didn't intend to go through the bottle tonight, but strong spirits often came in handy on the road. He poured for himself and Oak. "Is there anywhere where I might purchase some supplies?" He asked.

"At this hour?" Oak laughed throwing down his drink with practiced speed. "Nope, you'll have to wait until tomorrow morning".

Marco sighed.

"Tell you what" Oak sounded pleased with himself "If you can come tonight and meet some of my friends, I'll put you up for the night and help you find everything you need"

Marco threw back his own shot and held out his hand.

* * *

 **In case you missed it the joke with the bourbon is that its a corn based** **alcohol**


End file.
